


On The Last Flight Out

by DovK



Category: Halo
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovK/pseuds/DovK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Covenant glassed Reach. The Pillar of Autumn was shot down. Spartan-117 is dead. Noble Six and Cortana, the last survivors of Reach, are stowed away aboard a Covenant transport.</p>
<p>And the events of the last few weeks are catching up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Last Flight Out

Six shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position in the narrow, cramped cargo hold. It was a waste of time. The space was never designed for passengers, and doubtless wasn't intended for humans. It was a miserable cargo hold of an alien ship leaving the planet where her teammates would lay for the rest of time. It was a dark, filthy stowage space. And she would be stuck here for days.

The sobs started before Six even realized what was happening. She never cried. She hadn't cried when she was taken from her parents as a kid. She hadn't cried when she was shot for the first time, in a live-fire exercise on her tenth birthday. She hadn't cried for her teammates, for her homeworld, for anything. But here she was, with tears streaming down her face, and she couldn't help but laugh. The tears didn't stop, nor did the gasping, shuddering sobs, but now she laughed too; she banged her fist against the floor, twisted, laughed, choked. She screamed inside her helmet, screamed and shook, bit her lip until it bled, smashed her head against the wall until the world was a dizzying blur, giggled, collapsed, lay silent for a long while.

And then a voice parted the quiet:

"Stay with me, Spartan."

The voice was soft, delicate and quiet; it sounded familiar, like a voice from her childhood. It didn't demand attention. Six decided to ignore it. She lay limp on the floor, feeling the blood from her lip trickle into her mouth and down her throat. The voice would go away.

But after a while, she realized that it was still there; it hadn't said anything, but it was _there_. She knew the voice. And it was waiting. so she gave a single choked hiccup of acknowledgement.

"This is hard. But we didn't make Spartans to do the easy jobs."

Six nodded. True. Never easy. Never once easy.

"And there's no one else left. You're the only one who can help me."

No one else. Jorge dead. Kat dead. Jun gone. Carter dead. Emile dead. Right. No one else.

"And I had my pick of Spartans, Six. I picked you. And I had a reason."

She did have a reason. Must have. She was smart. Who was she?

"I admire you. I wanted to work with you. I knew you were a survivor. Reach just confirmed that."

I admire you. Six licked the blood off her lip, blinked.

"You never give up on a job. You never complain. You lead well. You follow well."

Never complain. Never give up. I admire you. Six breathed. She blinked. Where was she?

"And more than that... I know you. I've watched you for a long time. I've felt every wound, every loss. And I want to keep you safe."

I admire you. And I want to keep you safe.

"Now sit up and talk to me, Spartan."

She sat up. "Yes, Cortana."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Silence descended over the cargo hold again; the damp, distant thrum of alien engines and quiet, slow breaths were the only indications of life in the darkness.

"I -- I admire you too. And want to keep you safe."

"I know, Six."

And Six felt like she really did.

**Author's Note:**

> I may continue this; the idea struck me and I had to write something real fast. But I particularly like this part.


End file.
